


Private Lesson

by LadyDorian



Category: 60 Parsecs!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Praise Kink, Roleplay, Teacher/Student Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:22:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24288856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDorian/pseuds/LadyDorian
Summary: Baby gets a tour of Emmet's classroom, followed by a personal, private lesson.
Relationships: Baby Bronco/Emmet Ellis
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Private Lesson

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this (dirty) headcanon](https://ladydorian.tumblr.com/post/617566863619178496/some-brommet-fantasyroleplay-sex-under-the-cut) and [this (even filthier) commission](https://twitter.com/recoquestion/status/1261333362427527176) I got of Emmet fucking Baby on top of a lab table. 
> 
> Also, I realized I haven't written any fic from Baby's perspective yet, so...please enjoy.

"So...what do you think?"

Baby's eyes glisten in awe at the sprawling chemistry lab before him, sleek black tables and cabinets full of flasks and bottles gleaming under fluorescent lights. If he didn't know any better, he'd swear he was back in high school, albeit without the note-passing and constant disruptions and spitballs made from failed tests. _King of the Clowns_ is what his buddies had called him, a moniker he'd worn as proudly as his varsity football jacket. Though perhaps if he hadn't been so eager to adopt his persona, he might have had a better shot at graduating. Or at least coming close. "Wow, Emmet!" He gushes. "It's amazin'! And you get to teach here every day?"

Emmet smiles and tugs on the lapels of his lab coat—the one piece of clothing that had elevated him above the rest of the teachers at the faculty mixer. In Baby's regard, that is. "Well, we only use it on lab days," he explains. "I'm in a standard classroom most of the time."

"Do ya still wear the jacket?" Baby asks, pointing his finger at Emmet's coat.

Playfully, Emmet pretends to snatch at it. "No, I save it for special occasions. Like giving my boyfriend the grand tour of my workplace."

Baby gives a low whistle and looks around the lab again. "Man, I wish I was one a'your students. Gettin' to come here and do experiments an' stuff."

"Well, I'm certainly not going to sleep with any students, so I'm fine with you just the way you are."

The pleasant laughter that accompanies his words should be more than enough to put a smile on Baby's face. And yet, the longer he stares at the empty classroom, the deeper his nostalgia creeps, burrowing into his chest until he can do nothing but sigh and frown. Emmet must notice, because he reaches for his hand and asks, "What's wrong?"

"It's just…" He gives Emmet's hand a squeeze. "Bein' here makes me think of when I was back in school. All the stuff I coulda done better if I just tried." He bows his head to the scuffed linoleum floor, shimmies his foot against it. "I mean, you're a genius an' I'm just a dropout. I dunno what ya see in me."

Two fingers slip under his chin and gently guide him back, so his blue eyes meet Emmet's deep brown. "Baby, you know I don't care if you're a Nobel Prize winner or if you scraped through Kindergarten by the skin of your teeth," Emmet says. "Besides, it wasn't your fault you dropped out. You didn't exactly have the best support system, to put things lightly."

He's right, in a way. Ever since he'd turned fifteen, Baby's folks had been harassing him to quit wasting his time on education and go into the family business, which wasn't so much a business as it was a typical smash-and-grab operation, more suitable for pawning televisions out of the back of their van than climbing the corporate ladder. But placing the blame solely on his parents would be a cop-out; after all, they hadn't been the ones to jump ship halfway through his senior year. 

"Yeah, but I was kind of a delic—delinquent. I was better at shootin' spitballs and readin' comics in class than payin' attention. None of the teachers really wanted me there."

"Here, sit down with me for a minute," Emmet urges softly, leading him over to one of the lab tables and pulling out two stools. Once they've settled in, he clasps Baby's hand again and gives it a comforting pat. "I'm sorry your teachers gave up on you. If it were me, I'd do everything I could to help you be your best self. Even if it meant taking a machine gun's worth of spitballs to the face," he adds with a chuckle.

Baby smiles despite himself. "I did hit my English teacher in the forehead with a spitball once. He was so pissed he made me stay after class an' write 'I will not slack off durin' Shakespeare' on the chalkboard about a hundred times."

"Hey, I don't blame you," jokes Emmet. "I never had a taste for _Romeo and Juliet,_ either."

His eyes flicker with warmth and kindness, and suddenly Baby remembers the one thing he had spent so much of his guilt-ridden prison sentence trying to forget. "Oh, um…There _was_ this one teacher who tried to help me out all the time. His name was Mr. Lencker. He was my Bio teacher senior year."

"Oh?" Emmet arches his brow. "Did he give you tutoring lessons?"

Emotions that had been buried for nearly a decade come flooding back—in Baby's head, in his chest. In less...appropriate places. "Not espic—not specifically. He would have me come in early and make me stay late to go over the stuff we learned that day. I hated it at first—he was kind of a jerk, the way he'd always call on me in class an' shake his head when I told him I didn't do my homework, like I let him down or somethin'. But eventually I got used to it. I figured he just wanted to help, that maybe he really did care if I graduated. And when I finally got a C- on one a'my tests instead of an F, he looked so proud. And he told me I done a real good job."

He stops, looks away and swallows his shame. "But even all a'that wasn't enough to keep me from droppin' out. He musta been so disappointed. I wish—I just wish I could go back an' apologize."

"You really had a crush on this man, didn't you?"

Baby's eyes snap forward so fast, his optic nerves get whiplash. "Wh-What? No. _No._ I-I didn't—"

"Baby, your face is beet red," Emmet chuckles. "It's kind of easy to put two-and-two together."

"N-No," he shakes his head emphatically. "It wasn't like that, I swear. He was just a guy tryin' to help me get better at science."

"It's OK, Baby," Emmet says with a reassuring smile. "There's nothing wrong with having a crush on a teacher. I mean, I'm no looker, but if I had a dollar for every time I caught a student making eyes at me over their textbook, I'd probably be able to afford an early retirement. On my own private island."

"Oh." Baby scratches at his curls and flashes Emmet a bashful look. 

Maybe he does have a point. Mr. Lencker had been attractive in the way a balding potato might be, but Baby had still managed to see something in him. And while Emmet may be tall and spindly and nothing like the heartthrobs on the covers of popular teen magazines, he has a passion for his work that could put literal rocket scientists to shame. He's kind and attentive, funny and sweet, everything Baby has ever wanted in a partner. He can't deny that had his pubescent self been placed in a classroom with Dr. Emmet Ellis at the head, his extracurricular "activities" would have extended well beyond football practice.

But the realization does little to wipe the frown from Baby's lips. "Don't it seem kinda embarrasin', though? Knowin' yer boyfriend had a crush on a guy more'n twice his age?" Married with kids, to boot.

"Embarrassing?" Emmet snorts a laugh. "You want to talk embarrassing? When I was a freshman, I was head-over-heels for my Algebra teacher, Mr. Miller. Thick mustache and glasses, salt-and-pepper hair. Liked to wear sweater vests with suede jackets. Your typical middle-aged math whiz. I used to raise my hand so often, I'd leave class with a sore shoulder. I was that eager to impress him."

Baby watches intently while Emmet removes his glasses and cleans them with the tail of his lab coat. "Anyway, he was handing back our tests one day," he continues. "I aced it, of course. Even got a perfect score. And then—" 

His shoulders start shaking, giggles echoing throughout the room. "And then Mr. Miller patted me on the arm and said 'Excellent work, Emmet,' and I swear to god I popped an erection right on the spot."

 _"What?"_ Baby can't help but laugh along. "No way. Yer pullin' my leg."

"To this day, I still have nightmares about standing at the chalkboard with my notebook held over my crotch." He wipes a tear from his eye before sliding his glasses back on and turning his smile to Baby. "So, no, I don't think you're embarrassing for having a crush on your teacher. You certainly couldn't have done worse than me."

The shame that had curled up in the pit of Baby's stomach begins to slowly unclench. "Thanks, Emmet," he says, "I feel a little better now."

Emmet draws Baby's hand to his lips and gives it a tender kiss. "Anytime. But we should probably get back to the party before some of the other faculty accuse me of 'not being a team player' again." He starts to stand, but quickly plops down on the stool when Baby gives his arm a less-than-gentle tug. "What's up?" He laughs. "You wanna hear about the time I ran into an open door because I was staring at my Chem teacher as he walked past me in the hallway?"

"Oh, um, n-no, that's not it," Baby answers shyly. "I was just—I was wonderin' if…"

No, he can't ask for that. Here? Now? What would Emmet think? Even if he had laughed away his embarrassment, he couldn't possibly—He'd be sure to—He'll never—

He looks down at the hand clasped in his, and finds within its warmth the courage to speak. "Do—Do ya think ya could kiss me?"

"Baby, you never have to ask—"

"No, I mean, right here," Baby says as he turns to him, face burning hot as coals. "It's just—sometimes I used to imagine Mr. Lencker kissin' me in the bio lab when we were alone. Like, real soft and gentle. I know it sounds stupid. You prob'ly think—"

The words fade into a hazy echo the moment Emmet cups his cheek and leans forward to bring their mouths together.

The kiss itself is timid, hesitant, a bare grazing of flesh, as if Emmet was trying to get a feel for him, questioning how much further he should take this as a teacher to his student. Each breath that leaves his parted lips dances into Baby's mouth, full of desire, of hope, of stern warnings: _"Unethical. Inappropriate. Immoral."_ Still, he doesn't stop. He edges even closer, until their lips are sealed tight, their noses pressed astride one another. And now, they're truly kissing—with soft tongues and tender caresses, a devotion Emmet has shown him every day, though this time is different. This is something brand new.

Warmth surges all throughout Baby's body. His fingers tangle in Emmet's lab coat, his tongue teases his lips. His cock swells inside the confines of his jeans, aching for a quick tug, whatever that C- might have earned him. It only takes a moment before Emmet is clawing at the buttons of his dress shirt, kissing him so deeply, Baby can feel it in the back of his throat. One hand wanders to his crotch and—finding it hot and throbbing—gives a squeeze that pulls the most wanton moan from Baby's lips.

When Emmet draws back, it feels as if he takes all of Baby's breath with him. "Take your clothes off and get up on the table," he says. "I'll be right back."

"Yessir," Baby murmurs, and begins to fumble with the few buttons that Emmet had left unopened. 

He watches through glazed eyes as Emmet walks to the classroom door and cracks it open, sticking his head out to scan the hallway before shutting it again and turning the lock. The sharp _click_ is both startling and arousing, and Baby finds himself stumbling like a horny teenager to shuck off the rest of his clothing. Every piece is a new hurdle, from the boots that seem glued to his feet, to the socks soaked in sweat, the belt buckle that refuses to open. By the time he manages to get his jeans and shorts down, and his undershirt twisted up around his ears, Emmet is already elbow-deep into the row of cabinets in the back, muttering to himself as he roots around for some unknown item. "Fuck, where is it? I know I saw it just last week."

Baby doesn't know if high school chem labs happen to carry aphrodisiacs, but as he tosses the last of his clothing to the floor and climbs onto the table, he thinks that whatever Emmet is looking for must be something good. Though, at this point, a steaming jar of acid wouldn't be enough to deter him from offering himself up as a guinea pig. " _For science!"_ As Emmet would say.

He shivers when the cool slab meets warm skin, his balls shrinking a bit, cheeks sticking to the surface like a tongue pressed to an icy telephone pole. But the discomfort doesn't last long, not when his body is burning hot as it is, eager to see what Emmet has in store. 

"Aha!" Emmet's enthusiasm ricochets around the lab as he yanks what appears to be a large tube from one of the equipment cabinets. And even though Baby had never gotten past attempting to light his farts on fire with a Bunsen burner, his slacker brain has no trouble piecing the equation together. 

His throat goes dry and his hole puckers in anticipation.

"Silicone lubricant," Emmet announces with a grin, shaking the tube so Baby can see. "Medical grade, so you don't have to worry about having an ass full of petroleum jelly."

"Oh." Not that Baby had been worried; compared to the makeshift lubes he'd used in prison, this is practically like coming across a Cadillac with the keys in the ignition. And Emmet is speeding to his side as if he'd forgotten how brake pedals work.

He tugs his tie loose, pops open the top two buttons of his shirt. Leans in for a kiss before coaxing Baby onto his back, taking care to ensure his head doesn't hit the built-in faucet. The surface is just as cold here, and the sink basin still manages to cut into his scalp, but none of that matters when Emmet is pushing his legs apart, lifting his heels up on the table's edge so his hands are free to unscrew the tube. Elegant fingers move with grace and urgency—squeezing, spreading, rubbing until they glisten like diamonds in the light. The entire time he's working, he never takes his eyes off of Baby, his gaze full of lust and adoration, like Baby were the highest form of specimen, and he more than ready to get at his gorgeous insides.

He stuffs the tube into his coat pocket and reaches his slick hand beneath Baby's balls.

One slender finger slips in without resistance, nice and deep and delicious enough to make Baby's toes curl. It twists and turns and teases him for a few tantalizing seconds before Emmet pulls out and adds another. A third follows shortly after, then a fourth, the stretch too much, too soon, but they knew this would have to be quick and dirty. They don't have the luxury of lying in bed for hours while Emmet makes Baby come on his fingers until his cock is bled dry. But even with their limited amount of prep time, he treats him as gently as possible, pumping slowly, massaging his sore rim each time he pulls out to press another digit inside. Soon, Baby is moaning and squirming, his cock oozing hot globs of precome all over his stomach. And it only gets better once Emmet slides his fingers out and unbuttons his khakis, dexterous hands lubing himself up to give Baby his well-deserved reward. 

His velvety cock feels so much different without a condom on—rich and decadent and well worth the burning stretch that accompanies it. Emmet pauses once he's in completely, wiggles his hips a bit so that his curly pubes brush the wrinkled flesh of Baby's sac, teasing him just the way he likes it. He looks at Baby with a desperate want in his eyes.

Baby swallows hard and gives a nod, and then Emmet is rocking in and out of him, the pleasure more mind-blowing than any fantasy he ever could have concocted.

 _What will the other teachers think?_ He screws his eyes shut, two fingers crammed into his mouth to keep himself from moaning too loudly. What would they say if they heard their grunts and groans echo through the halls? What about the poor custodian, if he were to walk in at just the right moment to catch them going at it? And what about the students? How jealous would they be to know that Baby was teacher's pet? That he gets to stay late after class while Emmet kisses his knees and digs his nails into his thighs and fucks him until he's limping to homeroom the next morning? They have no idea how lucky he is. They can never know.

 _"Mmph..._ Doc…" Baby mumbles it as best he can around his sodden fingers, hopes that Emmet hears, that he realizes how much he loves being spoiled like this. The tabletop is slick with sweat, and though he knows Emmet has no chance of catching him if he were to slide off, Baby would happily live with the bruises, the embarrassment, the shameful arousal he feels when he whimpers Emmet's title over in his head— _Dr. Ellis, Dr. Ellis…_

He hears Emmet gasp as if in response, his voice hoarse above the creak of the table, the scandalous squelch of lube. "Fuck, Baby, you're so good," he purrs. "So attentive. So eager to learn."

Baby groans and clutches the table edge in a white-knuckled grip.

"Don't think I haven't noticed how hard you've been applying yourself. Studying every day. Always turning in your homework on time. I— _Ah—_ can't wait to see how you perform on the next test."

Each round of praises comes with a series of sharp thrusts, intensity building until Baby feels as if his body will combust. And Emmet isn't even trying to hit his prostate; he's fine with letting his words do all the work.

"You were—always my favorite—you know," Emmet's grunts pepper the air. "I saw the—the potential in you, Baby. I knew you'd—go far."

His fingers glide from Baby's hip to his groin, twirling their way through matted pubic hair and slick pools of precome until they eventually come to encircle his cock, dripping wet and begging for mercy. He humors it with a slow tug, and somewhere above his mewling cries, Baby thinks he hears him laughing.

"Yeah—Baby Bronco—my best student," he chuckles as he runs his thumb over Baby's slit. "I'm going to miss you so much after graduation. You really—You—" His thrusts grow erratic, his strokes faster. Baby's body teetering on the edge. 

"You really made me proud."

With a strangled growl, Baby comes all over himself, his ass clenching and fluttering, pleasure rippling through his muscles like liquid in a flask. Another rough thrust, another groan and Emmet quickly pulls out, shooting his load across Baby's chest and stomach in a sticky, haphazard web that ensnares them both.

A tranquil moment passes in the aftershocks, full of heaving breaths and shivering skin, come that drips unfettered onto the filthy tabletop. Dragging his love-bitten fingers from his mouth, Baby cracks his eyes open to find Emmet towering above him, his clothes mussed and hairline dappled with sweat. He grins childishly. "Did I get an A+, teach?"

Emmet shakes his head and barks a breathless laugh.

"You know we can never do this again," Emmet says as he sprays more disinfectant onto the table and wipes it up with a paper towel. "Not the roleplay, but the having sex at my work part. I don't want to lose my job because my dick can't behave itself whenever I'm around you."

Baby finishes tucking his shirt into his jeans and smoothes his hair back one last time before bending to retrieve one of his boots. "Yeah, what are yer students gonna do without ya there to tell 'em not to mix the stuff under their kitchen sink?"

Emmet shrugs. "Can't argue with that logic." Their makeshift bed now spic-and-span, he puts the spray bottle back under the table and tosses the balled-up paper towel into a nearby trash can. Then, blushing, he turns to Baby and says, "Sorry, by the way."

"Hmm?" Baby wrinkles his nose and reaches for the other boot. "What do ya mean?"

"Just that this was your fantasy, but I was the one who ended up getting carried away."

"Nah, it's cool," Baby replies, bracing a foot on one of the stool's rungs in order to tie his laces. "It just made it feel more real."

"So...I'm off the hook as 'Horny Teacher'?" Emmet asks.

Baby stands up straight and shoots him a sly grin. "I mean, ya can always teach me 'bout the Big Bang when we get home later," he says. "In private. With some _hands-on_ demonstrations." He wiggles his brow for emphasis. Emmet laughs.

"Sure thing. I think you've put in enough lab work for the semester."

And, tightening his tie, he takes Baby by the hand and leads him back to the party, completely forgetting about the open tube of lubricant until one of the other teachers mentions something leaking from his coat pocket.

**Author's Note:**

> Come chat with me on [tumblr.](http://ladydorian.tumblr.com)


End file.
